Trust me
by wobblywibblywow
Summary: Amaya is a seventeen year old living on the streets. She has no where to go, but dreams of living a life without running away from everything. When she is 'rescued' by a stranger, she sees how lonely she really is. Can she trust this stranger with her life? (Different Pan back story)
1. Chapter 1

I'm running. I've run from everything since I was twelve, and I continue to run. No place anywhere is ever welcoming, so I walk the streets alone. The only name I have ever known of is Amaya, so I stick with it. For five years I have lived this lifestyle, and I see it never changing. I will never trust anybody, and nobody will ever trust me.

I practically remember nothing from my childhood, other than violence, and not that I would want to remember anything. I was forced to grow up when I began living on the streets which caused me to push away the thoughts of the past, and focus on the future. It was always easy to do that. Over the first few months of living alone, I matured enough to find ways to steal what I could from the shops in the town I was in. Once my face was well known in the area, I moved to the next city and began another cycle of theft. I've been doing it since I was twelve, up until now, when I'm seventeen.

I set myself down on an isolated park bench, and begin to unpack my backpack for the night. As I unfold my filthy blanket, I hear a rustling noise somewhere in the foliage behind me.

"It's just a squirrel." I tell myself as I bring out my pillow and set it behind me.

I lean my head back and gaze at the stars, wishing I could escape from this lifestyle of constant running. I have grown tired of having to steal for everything I need, and would much rather find better living conditions. When I was younger, I would dream of finding a warm family with beautiful parents that would love me forever. I secretly still do dream of it, but with less hope of it ever happening.

I lay there for what seems eternity, until the rustling starts again. I freeze, and cautiously listen as the noise increases, gradually getting closer. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I automatically reach for my pocket knife hidden the sleeve of my backpack for situations like this. I keep my eyes glued to the rustling plants. My heart feels like it's going to explode from beating too fast.

Suddenly, a young man walks out of the foliage and looks directly at me. I hesitantly sit up, preparing for what may happen. My hands begin to cramp from my tight grip on the pocket knife, but I keep my grip steady. I study his face earnestly, looking for any crazed signs, but I don't find any. He runs his hands through his dark curls and walks over to me.

"Can I sit here? I can't seem to find any other available benches around here." the guy asks me.

Surprised, I look him up and down, in search of any weapons, and make my decision. I nod silently as I make room for him on the bench. By the looks of him, it seems he also lives on the streets. He lets out a sigh of relief as he reclines himself down on the far end of the bench

We sit there, silent as he gets comfortable. Over the years I have gotten used to sharing my park bench with strangers, but they've never been as attractive as this one. The community of people on the streets are often kind to others like them, so I rarely have to worry for my safety.

I decide to zone out, deep in unknown thought, until I am brought back to reality by the guy waving his hand in front of my face. I blush when I realise I was staring at him the entire time.

"I was just saying thanks for letting me sit here, It's usually hard to find one in this part of town," the guy says, "My name's Eric by the way,"

I sit there staring at his face. From this angle, the light cast from the streetlight falls perfectly on his black curls, which frame his face. His jaw has a chiseled line which is defined greatly by the light glow of his skin. His face is not common to find on the streets, merely because the pretty ones are usually taken care of. I am surprised by how great his beauty is.

He sits there, expectant for a name from me, but I give him nothing. Eric may be attractive, but I know better than to trust a total stranger. I have heard stories from other homeless about children getting kidnapped by strangers.

After several long awkward minutes, he breaks the silence.

"I know what you're thinking, I'm a total stranger that you know nothing about, and you don't want to risk getting hurt. I understand what you feel, and I just want you to know that you can trust me. I will not hurt you" Nathan reassures me. "I used to feel the same way about people I didn't know, but I soon learned that when you're at this point, getting hurt is nothing compared to other things."

His words cut deep into me, and I open up the walls a bit.

"Amaya." I respond."My name's Amaya."

"Names are a good start, but I would love to know more than your name, and more about your pretty face." He says.

I turn away as I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. I am always weak around compliments from others.

I turn back around to find him unwrapping a flattened sandwich out of a wrapper. He sees me eyeing the sandwich hungrily and breaks it in half. He hands me the larger half of the sandwich, and I snatch it up. I bite into it and taste the rich flavor of peanut butter mixed with the sweetness of honey. I scarf down the rest of the sandwich, and taste an odd type of powder in it, but I ignore it and finish the sandwich. I look up at him and find him watching me, without a single bite out of his sandwich.

"Are you not going to eat yours?" I ask. A sudden sharp pain shoots my right temple and my vision begins to swim.

I stare at him as the pain increases, and a slight grin spreads across his face. He pushes himself off of the bench and faces towards me. I wince at the pain shooting in my temple.

"I wouldn't dare eat one of these." Eric tells me as he holds up his sandwich. "You see, that weird powder you might have tasted was a nasty drug which causes the consumer to become temporarily paralyzed once consumed." He finishes with a smug look on his face.

Once I process this information through a brain filled with hazy thoughts, I try to squirm out of the drug's grasp, but with no success, I am unable to move. I watch silently as Eric advances towards me.

"You may black out as a side effect of the drug, but only for a few hours. If you even survive after it." Eric tells me, the last part barely audible. He crouches down next to where I lie, slowly reaches down to my hand, and uncoils my fingers from around the pocket knife.

"You won't be needing this right now will you" He jokingly asks. I stare at him with a glare laced with venom, and it just amuses him even more. "I take your silence as a yes."

With swift movements, he is suddenly on top of me, with his hands holding down my wrists, my pocketknife still gripped in his hands.

"This might hurt a little." he says as he runs the blade across the skin covering my wrists. I let out a scream as the cut begins to react to the broken skin. Blood begins to run down my arm and into a bowl cupped in his hands. While the bowl fills with my blood, he whispers something in a thick language I don't understand. The blood in the bowl thickens, and he the blood a little with his fingers. As he blood flow begins to flow slower, and he removes the bowl. With tears streaming down my face, I try to glare at him, but my vision begins to form into black spots

"And now to the other hand." he says as the moves around the bench.

The moment he begins to crouch down next to me, he is picked up by some unknown force, and rammed into a nearby tree.

"What the-" he is cut off as he is picked up again from the invisible force and thrown into the ground. I hear several loud cracks, and he just lays there motionless. I look around, trying to identify the invisible force. My vision suddenly begins to blacken, and I shut my eyes. The last thing I remember before blacking out is being picked up by a pair of sturdy arms, and being lifted away.


	2. Chapter 2

The loud squawking of birds is what wakes me up. I groggily sit up to find that I am laying on rugged dirt rather than the park bench. I look around, and try to recall what could have caused me to have to sleep on the ground. Suddenly, the memory of last night comes flooding over me, along with some slight pain in my right temple. I collapse back down on the ground in shock of what happened last night, but I am brought back up when my cuts on my arms demand attention. They sting like hell, along with looking like it. They have dirt coating the insides from sleeping on the dirt floor, mixed with fresh blood. I worry they may get infected.

I try to recall what brought me here, because I doubt I would be able to wander into a jungle-like city park. The last thing I remember from last night, is being lifted by a pair of sturdy arms, and then I blacked out. My vision begins to blacken from thinking too hard, and so I give it a break.

I hear a twig snap from behind me, and I automaticly whip around onto my feet. I scan the area in search for the guy who attacked me, but with no luck, I don't see him. After several long, dragging minutes, I relax and sit back down, mostly because my vision was beginning to form black spots.

I peel my worn hoodie off of me, and prop it up to where it is suitable for a pillow. I might as well get more rest to let the drug wear off. I shift around to where my head is facing an open area, just in case my little friend Eric decides to pay me a visit. With a loud sigh, I allow myself to drift off into a deep sleep.

* * *

I am awoken a second time, again by the birds, but this time, it's different. I look up, to find them flying away from the area I'm in, as if they're running away from something. I cautiously stand up, just in case I have to defend myself.I look around, and find that I don't recognize any of these plants, mostly because they were never in any of the city parks of Maine. After years of living on the streets, I have gotten myself into small fights over territory, so I at least have some experience in fighting. I frantically look all around me in search of any movement

As I begin to give up on looking for whatever caused the birds to fly away, I hear a whizzing sound coming from behind me. I turn around to find an arrow whizzing past my face. I react quickly, and dodge the arrow. I look up, and find the arrow now lodged in the tree a couple of feet behind me. I feel a something warm trickling down my ear, so I lift my hand to my ear, and feel wetness. I remove my hand, and find my fingertips coated with a sticky red liquid.

I hear twigs snap, and turn around to find a small group of filthy boys snickering at me. A smaller boy has a bow clutched in his right hand.

Rage builds inside of me as a assume they are the ones who brought me into this strange forest. I angrily look at the snickering boys, and find they look like children, some no older than me. They look like they all seriously need a bath. They finally stop laughing, and stare straight at me. I build up the courage to scream something at them, but I am interrupted.

"Well done boys, it seems like you have fully awakened our guest." says an older boy coming out of the foliage. "I see your aim has improved greatly." he says to the kid with a bow as he steps further into the light. He turns to me, "Now who do we have here? It's always a pleasure to have girls visit us here." he says with a smirk.

He looks me us and down as I stand there awkwardly silent. He walks around me, eyeing everything can see. He raises an eyebrow when he gets to the front of me, and I glare at him. He stares directly into my eyes, still wearing a smirk. My heart races as I get a full look of his face. He has light golden, wavy hair, which frames his face perfectly. His eyes are a hue of green, with specks of blue intermixed throughout him. His british accent only adds to the list of good things about him. He is gorgeous. My heart races when he continues staring into my eyes, and I am forced to break eye contact by staring at the ground.

"Boys," he calls out, "I think it's time for you all to go back to the camp now."

'Camp?' I think to myself.

The boys trudge out of the small clearing, and walk back into the woods. I watch them all leave the forest, only because I knew the boy is still staring at me. As the last one walks out of my view, I turn back around to the boy staring at me with eyebrows raised.

He begins to walk around me again, looking me over again. He stops in front of me, and moves closer. I can feel his breath on my neck. My heart begins to race from the closeness, and I back away a bit. He walks towards me, and gets even closer. We're practically touching. He looks down at my neck, and reaches to it. To my surprise, he lifts up my necklace, and admires it.

"Pretty." he comments. "Where did you get it?"

I do not respond to him, and instead stare at a tree off in the distance. He stares at me, aggravated. Suddenly, he yanks it off from my neck, and chucks it into the forest.

"NO!" I scream as it disappears into the woods. I begin to run toward to where it was thrown, but he grabs my arm tightly, and I'm unable to run after it. His hands dig deeply into the cuts on my wrist, but I try to hide the pain.

"I do not have patience for nonsense like silence from stupid girls like you." He says through clenched teeth. The smirk is now gone from his face. "Now if you could answer my question, that would be wonderful." He says.

He tightens his grip, and sinks his nails into my cuts. I let out a small scream from the unbearable pain, and my knees buckle. He releases me, and I collapse to the ground. I clutch my wrists and look for any more damage. The smirk returns onto his face until he looks at his hands. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees the blood covering his hands.

He looks back down at me clutching my wrists, and he crouches down next to me. He grabs my wrists, and pulls them towards was where I make the mistake of shaking my head. Angrily, he grabs my wrists tightly, and I wince from the pain. He turns my palms up so that he is able to see the cuts on my arms. He looks at them, surprised by something from them. He presses his thumb down gently on one of the cuts, and I let out a small whimper.

"Did you do these to yourself?" he asks me. Ha, he almost seems concerned.

I consider whether I should answer him, but I eventually decide not to. I look directly into his eyes, challenging him to respond. He clenches his jaw, and lunges towards my wrist. I try to pull it out of his reach, but he is already a step ahead of me. He grabs hold of my wrists, and pins them to the ground. He then climbs on top of me in a straddled position. He lays his elbows down on my wrists, making sure they are on my cuts, and begins to stroke my face.

"I think you are well aware that I am not afraid to hurt you." he says calmly, but I can hear the malice in his voice. "Now what I suggest that you start talking before you get too injured." he says as he digs his elbows deeper into my arms.

I fight the urge to scream, and instead clench my jaw as I stare into his eyes with a determined look. He stares back at me, and the smirk crawls back onto his face as he releases his elbows off of me. He stands up, dusts his pants off, and looks down at me.

"You're tough, I'll give you that." He says as he extends a hand down to me. I grip it cautiously, and he pulls me up close to him. And we are a mere two inches away from each other yet again.

"Who are you?" I ask him quietly.

"And you speak." He chuckles deeply.

"Who are you" I ask again.

"Peter Pan" he whispers into my ear, and a smug grin spreads across his face. I pull back, confused at what he just told me. He continues grinning slyly as he leans closer to me.

"Now I am going to ask you once more." he says venomously. "Did you do this," he gestures towards my wrists, "to yourself? Again, I advise you to answer me. Now." He finishes. He raises a hand up to my hair and tucks it behind my ear. When I don't answer immediately, he grips the right side of my face with his hands, and begins to grip it hard. With his thumb pressing hard on my right temple, my eyes begin to form black spots. My eyelids flutter quickly, and his grip loosens slightly, but it does no help. My vision goes black, and I collapse to the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

"Plink. Plink. Plink." A small metal cup in the corner of the room catches water dripping from the ceiling. "Plink. Plink. Plink." I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to regain the sleep I once had before I was awakened by the noise. The dripping continues, and I am forced to open my eyes and face reality.

I open my eyes to find that I'm laying on an old, tattered couch with an ugly design on it. I sit up fully, and look around the 'room'. It's more of a hut rather than a room, with aged wooden walls surrounding the round-ish room. Dim light shines in through thin curtains covering a square opening in the wall, and onto a pair of dusty bookshelves in one corner of the to the bookshelves are shelves of various things like toys and weapons. My eyes shift over to the darkest corner of the room, and I squint to make out a hammock hanging from the ceiling.

I stand up off the couch, and walk over to the shelves. Running my hand along the smooth burgundy wood, a flashing light catches my eye from across the shelves. I walk over to it, and see that its a blade with light refracting off of it. I look closely to it, and recognize it almost immediately. It's the knife Eric used to attack me. I clench my fists tightly as rage boils inside of me. I can still see my blood coating the tip of it.

That freak who calls himself Peter Pan has kidnapped me, and he's probably with Eric on trying to hurt me. I plop back down on the ratted couch, and begin hitting the cushions.

'How could I be so stupid enough to trust Eric?' I think to myself 'Now I've gotten myself involved with this so called 'Peter Pan' too?'

I punch the cushions harder now, and my rage builds even more. I eventually wear myself out, but my rage continues. Instead of more punching, I let out an angry scream, and something sparks out from my hands. Whatever shot out of my hands hits the wall across the room, and burns a hole into it. I am more surprised than scared as I look back and forth from my hands to the wall.

I run my hands through my hair, worried of what the owner would do of this house. Before I even think of any ways to cover it up, I hear footsteps approaching. Panicked, I quickly lie down on the couch, and pretend to be asleep.

The person opens the door quietly, and shuts it quickly. I open one of my eyes, and see that it's Peter, and he's looking at the wall. I shut my eyes quickly and try to stay calm.

"Well that's new", he says aloud, trying to see if I'm awake, "but I don't really like people altering my living quarters, that is unless it was meant for more enjoyable activities." I can practically hear him smirking.

"Come on now, there's no use of trying to pretend here. I am well aware that you are awake." he says to me. I do not respond to him, and instead continue pretending.

"Fine, but just know that I told you not to pretend." he tells me. I hear his footsteps traveling to one side of the room, and retrieving something there. The sound of his footsteps come closer, until they stop abruptly in front of me.

I am suddenly immersed in cold water, as he dumps the bucket of water on top of me. I sputter and spit the water out of my mouth as I push my drenched black hair out of my face. All the while Pan just stands there smirking yet again at me. I glare up at him and he scoffs.

"What the hell was that for?!" I yell at him.

"It's so nice to hear your voice again." he coos.

Pushing back my drenched hair, I glare up at him. "Why? What was the purpose of that?"

"I need you awake." he says bluntly, amused by the sight of me angry. He walks over to me and raises his hand to playfully push back my wet hair, but I slap his hand away immediately.

"Why is it necessary for me to be awake?" I ask him. I sit up straighter and look at him with raised eyebrows.

"You do not question me girl." he says as his voice dakens. "As you probably know already, I have power over you, so I wouldn't dare challenge me." he responds as he steps closer to me. He raises his eyebrows in mock of my previous actions.

"Well you should know that I will not respond to be called 'girl'," I retort back. I cross my arms over my soaked shirt, thankful that it's black, and listen to what he has to say.

He steps even closer to me and meets me at eye level. My heart races in either fear or excitement as he leans in towards my ear and speaks.

"Maybe if you could actually tell me something, I wouldn't have to refer to you as 'girl'." He whispers. He lifts his hand up to tuck a piece if my hair behind my ear, and this time I let him. "You could start with explaining the damage done to my living quarters." he says as he leans back away.

"Maybe you could tell me why you have that blade with my blood on it over on your shelf." I spit out, trying to avoid the subject of the wall. He tenses at the subject, walks over to where the knife was placed, and picks it up. Rolling the blade over in his hands, he glances back over to me and smirks at my glare. With long strides, he steps over to me with the knife held in his hands.

"I'd expect you to be more grateful to me for saving your life from that savage," he says as he raises the knife in his hand, "but I doubt you remember anything thanks to your infamous faints." He steps back over to the shelves and places the blade back to its belonging residence. "Now I believe that you are currently in debt of my heroic act, and owe me something." He looks back at me and raises his eyebrows

"Now what would that be?" I ask sarcastically.

"I am curious of what your name might be, and if you tell me, I might consider lightening the debt you owe me." he glances over to my expression, and is amused by it. Smirking, he walks back over and stands in front of me, expectant of an answer.

"I never asked for you to rescue me in the first place, I was handling the situation perfectly." I tell him. He raises his eyebrows at me and scoffs. "What I need is for you to lead me out of these woods, and back to Maine."

"Yes, because laying there without any means of resistance as that man slit your wrists open and drained you of your blood was totally in your control." Peter retorts back to me. In the next few moments, Peter has shoved me down onto the couch, and straddled over me. He leans down close to my face. "You are in debt of me girl and the only way off this island is by me. I have been needing somebody to keep me company, and I have my eyes set on you. Let me tell you now that you will never leave this island unless you are with me. Do you understand?"

"I am not someones disposable plaything, and I never will be." I tell him as I push him off of me and jump off the couch. I sprint as fast as I can out of the closest exit, and I don't stop. I run through branches and vines and other unrecognisable plants. They scratch me everywhere, but I keep on running. I try and put as much distance as I can between me and Pan, but my lungs demand a break after running too hard. I pray that Pan can't find me here as I decide to rest.

I look around, and eventually find a tree to rest on. I sit down on the branch, and look at the nature surrounding me. I am on top of some cliff that overlooks a beautiful blue ocean. It is now when I realize where I actually am. I am nowhere near Main, or possibly Earth. I have no other choice but to accept the fact that I am really in Neverland.

I take a deep breath and sit there, accepting the silence more than the reality. I lay there, leaning against the tree, and feeling the warm breeze. After a while I eventually fall asleep, lulled by the rhythmic waves and lethargic winds.

* * *

I am awoken suddenly by a soft humming noise. I open my eyes, and see that it's now night time, and the sky is brilliant hues of violet and deep blues. I stand up and walk closer to the edge of the cliff to get a better look at it, and I hear the humming noise again. Without any luck, I look around to see wherever it's coming from, but I cannot identify it. I look back up at the sky again, and I am not surprised when I see two stars close together, with one far more to the right. I scoff at the reality that I am in Neverland of all places. I hear the humming noise again, and this time it's even louder that the other times.

I look back in front of me, and I see the most beautiful thing ever. What stands before me is a stunning figure surrounded by white light, and clothed in white robes. I hear whatever it is humming, and I realize that this is what woke me up .

The figure reaches out what I think is a hand, and motions for me to come closer. Mesmerized by the bright light, I take a slow step towards the figure. It motions again for me to come closer, and I obey. I walk even closer to it as the humming becomes sweeter, until I am a mere foot away from it.

It begins to take a step away from me, and closer to the edge of the cliff, and I still try to walk closer to it. Soon, it is fully off the edge of the cliff, and I have now taken its place on the edge. I stop at the edge, but I am still hypnotised by its great beauty. I motions for me to take one final step, and I agree. I lift up my foot in a trance, and suddenly, Peter comes running out through the forest, out of breath.

"NO!" he screams at me, but it is too late. My weight has been distributed all the way off the cliff. Before I fall, I see the glowing figure snap its head towards Peter, and it turns red. It lets out a terrifying screech, and it vanishes as I fall off the cliff, still in a trance.

I feel nothing as I plummet down the cliff. I don't scream or flail or cry as I fall deeper and deeper down. I just fall straight down with my hands at my sides and with a blank face. I look down to see that I am nearing the ground, but I don't even react.

I am knocked back to my senses as I am caught by a pair of sturdy arms right before I slammed into the hard earth. I look up, and see Peter searching my face for any signs of pain, but he stops when he sees me looking at him. I look away, and see that were way above the trees, and that's when it hits me. With the wind blowing through my hair, I realize that we're flying. I let out a scream, and cling tighter to Peters neck. He lets out a small chuckle and holds me tighter to him. I close my eyes the rest of the way, mostly because I don't want to deal with anything high after what I just experienced.

* * *

When I feel Peter's feet touch the ground, I practically leap out of his arms, only to fall down onto the ground. He chuckles again at my weakness, and I glare back up at him.

"Mind explaining what the hell that was?" I manage to try and sound partially angry. He takes a deep breath, opens his mouth like he's going to speak, and pauses, thinking deep of what he wants to say. A rustling of leaves in the trees above us distracts him from his train of thought. He looks closely at the trees and quickly says to me.

"I don't think it's safe out here. We need to go back to my camp." His eyes dart back and forth along the canopy of the forest, searching for something.

"Not until you tell me what the hell that was back there." I retort back to him.

He scowls deeply at me, and lets out a huff of breath.

"Unless you want to die tonight, I suggest you come with me." He says in a hushed voice. I look questionly into his eyes to see if he's lying, but I don't see anything. After a long pause he decides to speak.

"Trust me."

With those words, I decide on what to do. I nod quickly, and he lets out a sigh of relief.

He begins to wrap his arms around my waist, and I raise my eyebrows up at him.

"Relax, I'm just picking you up to fly." he reassures me. Before I can object, he flies straight up, and into the night sky. Clinging to his neck, we fly towards the camp as a strange couple of people soaring through the sky.


End file.
